


Rutting Season

by SheepyStuff



Category: UnsavoryHabits
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheepyStuff/pseuds/SheepyStuff
Summary: A "refurbished" version of that one story where Odessa and Rigel rut one out. Yeehaw.





	Rutting Season

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to go through and gussy up some of the stories of my Nasty Blog that I like the most, starting with this one because honestly I've always quite liked the idea that went into it.

Rigel had not had any expectations for how Odessa’s office space would look, but upon opening the door, he knew in an instant that it was _his_. The space was not out of the ordinary, per say; it was clean, organized, and generic. Yet, it was foreboding in a way that others like it in the palace were not. Odessa kept a clean work space, but in a way that felt dirty and uncomfortable. It was minimalism without trying, a space with a lack of personality, and it felt far more oppressive than it should for an office with almost nothing in it. Perhaps it was simply knowing the man who owned it, his own brutal aura tainting everything he owned.

Sunlight poured through a crack in the one window’s curtains, but it seemed they were not meant to be open. There were candles set upon the desk, but the wicks were still fresh and waxy, leaving him to believe that the lights were little but decoration. The implication that Odessa worked in the dark did not seem odd, but still, the idea sent a shiver down Rigel's spine. The General was not there as Rigel has expecting, hoping to catch him while he was working, and the temptation to explore was too great to ignore.

Rigel had been searching for him since the morning, when he woke in their shared bed to find him gone. He had hoped to spend an afternoon with him, but he knew very little about his daily work schedule, as it was not something he spoke much of. Odessa did not speak much of anything, really, at least not to Rigel. For a man he meant to wed in the coming year, he still had no idea what he did during his work hours, let alone what he did in his free time when it was not spent with him. Long before the proposal, they felt distant, and not much had changed since a ring graced his finger. Rigel had figured it was in their best interest to start spending more time together, to actually put the effort into getting to know one and other, try and make their arrangement work, but his efforts were one sided. So far, Odessa had made it clear that Rigel was more of a toy for him than a true lover, but if Rigel could change that, he would.

He stepped cautiously into the office, glancing behind his shoulder anxiously, as if waiting for Odessa to materialize from thin air and catch him in the act. Something about being there, in his space without his permission, it felt wrong, as if he were trespassing. He did not shut the door behind him, instead leaving it open a crack to let light from the hallway in, illuminating the gloomy space. He walked to the desk, fingers grazing the oddly clean surface, the wood polished and well kept. The room was mostly empty, aside from the desk and chair from which Odessa worked, and a side table with a wilting plant in the far corner.

Rigel turned to the window, and gently pulled back the starchy curtains to let some more light into the space. He squinted into the setting sun, allowing his eyes to adjust, blinking away the pain of the bright light. His window overlooked the barracks, fitting considering his new position as general. Rigel placed a hand above his eyes, seeing if he could spot Odessa among the soldiers milling around, to no avail. As far as Rigel knew, he could not even be in the palace.

  
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rigel tensed at the words, their source clear, and he turned on his heels to face Odessa, waiting in the doorway with a threatening glare. His hands were bunched into tight fists, his lips curled into an ugly snarl, eyes focused on Rigel as he were prey caught in a snare. Threatening was the best way to describe him, if not the only word to suit his being.

Rigel opened his mouth to speak, yet no words would come, caught in his throat as it grew tight. He stumbled back against the window, pressing himself against the sill, seeking purchase and digging his nails into the wood. He turned his eyes to the ground, head tipped down, as submissive as he could make himself. Odessa was tolerant of Rigel, but his temper was short, and he was not afraid to lay hands on The Speaker should it suit his mood. He had since had to explain away too many bruises, and he was not keen to hide more.

He slowly began to move towards the desk, edging towards the door with his head down, hoping he could slink away and escape punishment. Odessa had other plans, and he could hear his long, heavy sounding strides as he met him there. With nowhere else to go, Rigel found himself pressed to the edge of the wood, Odessa taking a harsh hold on his chin, forcing his eyes up to his. They might as well have been black, shaded by his furrowed brow. “I asked you a question, Rigel. What the fuck are you doing in my office?”

“I was- I was just looking around, looking for you actually,” He managed to stammer out, tone wavering, his legs weak and shaking. Odessa grunted, leaning a little closer to Rigel’s face, pushing him harder into the sharp edge of the desk. It dug into his spine, and Rigel winced, hissing through his teeth as he tried to turn his head out of Odessa’s grasp, the General leaning closer. His breath washed across his cheek, an oily, sour smell to it.

“And why were you looking for me, huh? Something I done wrong?”

Rigel frantically shook his head, sensing his lover’s dwindling patience. The grip on his chin was growing harder, and he bore his teeth in threat, practically growling. “No, no, not at all! I just thought maybe you’d like to join me for lunch? That’s all, that’s- it’s all I wanted from you.” He might as well have been begging, sweat beading at the sides of his face; he could almost already feel the strikes and hear his own excuses as to where his bruises had come from. Odessa paused at that, his expression softening, taken aback even.

“Lunch?” He seemed unsure what to make of the offer, tilting his head in question, as if never offered anything kind. “I can’t say I’m hungry, unfortunately,” His hand softened, and he leaned back, giving Rigel back his space. He did not let him go, however, holding him in place, considering his quarry. His look had softened, but there was an energy to him still, buzzing like a swam of bees. His thumb moved to touch at the corner of Rigel’s lips, the smaller man swallowing back a feeling of anxiety that had begun to creep through his mind.

“Maybe instead of lunch, I have something else we could do?” It was asked like a question, but Rigel saw no need to answer. He was not looking for one; he was not searching for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, he wanted simple acceptance, and that, Rigel could offer. Odessa leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to Rigel’s lips, his hand shifting to stroke under his jaw, rubbing at a sensitive spot on his cheek. Rigel gave a small gasp, but made no move to pull away, if anything attempting to move with him when Odessa pulled back, smirking down at the Speaker with a smugness that felt out of place for such a soft moment.

He took a long inhale through his nose before delving back down to meet his lover, rougher than before. He did not have much patience, and riled easily, as Rigel had discovered before. Odessa nipped wherever his teeth could catch, Rigel giving a started squeak as he dug his teeth into his tongue, his bottom lip, enough to hurt, but thankfully not to draw blood. It was not what Rigel liked, but he groaned as encouragement, arms coming to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him just the slightest closer; Odessa was not a gentle man, and any effort to please Rigel was rewarded by the Speaker best he could. He pulled back a moments breath and returned to him, parting his lips in invitation for Odessa to take what he sought.

The man smiled against Rigel’s mouth, his tongue moving to seek his; he tasted of tar and copper, vile in a way that made Rigel’s cock twitch. Odessa’s hips bucked roughly forwards, an unintentional act, but not an unappreciated one. Rigel jumped at the sudden pressure, trying to pull back, a sharp breath forced from his lungs. Odessa chuckled against his mouth, breath hot against his skin. Purposely, he pushed his hips against Rigel’s, slowly starting to rock into him, grinding against his clothed cock. Rigel bit back a moan, instead shifting his grip upwards, clawing at the fabric of Odessa’s shirt shoulders.

“You needy fuck.” Odessa breathed, his tone nearing a whine, his lips a smug smile. Rigel whimpered, the pressure sweet and teasing all at once, though he thankful that Odessa kept a steady rhythm. The General bent down to him, pushing his head to the crook of his shoulder and neck, pushing his nose into the curls that kept him from his skin and taking a long breath. A hand pushed the hair out of his way once he’d gotten his fill, and without warning he sunk his teeth into the soft skin of his neck. Rigel yelped, his attention momentarily stolen from the pleasure of Odessa’s friction.

He did not let go, however, and it took Rigel giving another whimper before, with a huff that might have annoyed, he let him go. Odessa licked apologetically at the wound he had left, teeth marring the Speaker’s skin, tasting copper as red welled to the surface. In place of teeth his lips found his skin, just skimming the smooth surface of Rigel’s neck, here and there leaving gentle presses in their wake. Rigel, without Odessa to devour the sound, moaned unabashed at the man’s lips and hips a like, the attention divine.

  
It was unlike the General to be so gentle, to treat him kindly and pay attention to his needs as well as his own, so Rigel savored the moment for how ever short it may last.

“Odes- Shit, Odessa please,” Rigel whined, Odessa growling in content under his ear. Rigel could feel himself coming undone, his hips bucking and twitching on their own accord, his cock still trapped in his trousers having long since become hard. He was closer to his climax than he would have expected, something of the moment, of the place, maybe even of the person, having an effect on him he would not have expected. He was sure Odessa could tell, yet the general never made any motion to move away; even he, often cruel, simply let Rigel take it. He kept his steady pace, and set his lips to Rigel’s throat and jaw instead, feeling his moans rumbled under his teeth.

Odessa had begun to pant, Rigel able to feel his warm breath washing over him with every sharp exhale. Rigel bunched his shirt in his fists, clutching desperately at his fiancé, pressure pooling in his gut. Rigel rut into Odessa with sharp, sporadic movements, his teeth clenched as he held back wanting, needy sounds best he could, trying to keep some of his dignity. Odessa moved and held him closer, pressing his nose to Rigel’s hair, breathing deep. He reached behind Rigel and grabbed haphazardly at his ass, pawing like a desperate animal. He growled, a sound forceful enough to shake Rigel’s body, and it was enough to send him over the edge.

Rigel came a broken shout, his body quivering as Odessa continued his relentless search for his own climax, huffing against his hair, clawing at his trousers. Even with Rigel whimpering from the over stimulation, nearing the point of which he would beg for Odessa to let him go, the man never slowed. Rigel was lucky, Odessa finishing with a loud grunt, the sound muffled by Rigel’s curls. He reached upwards and grabbed the back of Rigel’s shoulders, pulling him close and holding him a death-like grip. Stilling, he took multiple deep breaths before his hold on Rigel loosened, hands smoothing down his back.

“That was,” Rigel could not help a laugh breaking his words, “It was good.” Odessa gave a soft snort of what sounded like laughter, nuzzling Rigel’s hair before finally letting him go. Rigel shifted in discomfort, his trousers left with a cooling wetness, and he paused as if waiting for Odessa to comment. The General seemed uncaring, however, as he sat down at his desk and gave a content sign. He was finished, and therefore, Rigel was no longer needed. With a soft goodbye, returned only with a grunt, Rigel made to waddle to his room and clean himself up.

“Be ready for me tonight, I want you later,” Odessa growled, shooting Rigel a possessive look. The Speaker paused, caught off guard by the sudden change it attitude, before offering a wary smile.

  
“Of course, Odessa. I’ll be ready.”

With a curt grunt, Odessa nodded, and waved a dismissive hand. “Good, now get the hell out of my office.”

**Author's Note:**

> I almost titled this some variation of "What're You Doing In My Swamp?" which is a prime example of why I should not be given the ability to title works.


End file.
